


Six Mornings

by NB_Cecil



Series: Doctors and Lizards [13]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Kissing, Platonic Life Partners, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Soulmates, Post-A Stitch in Time - Andrew Robinson, Post-A Stitch in Time canon, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Cardassia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 15:51:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16705348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NB_Cecil/pseuds/NB_Cecil
Summary: Post-canon Cardassia domestic fluff: Bashir wakes early each morning for his shift at Parmak’s clinic and stops to say goodbye to a sleepy Garak on the way out.





	Six Mornings

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning for brief PTSD flashback.

04:58. Bashir wakes to a cool, heavy body sprawled across his chest. He rolls the sleeping Cardassian off him and reaches for his PADD, swiping at the screen to deactivate the alarm before it goes off. Throwing back the covers he heads for the bathroom to shower. Back in the bedroom he dresses quietly then leans over the bed to kiss Garak’s cheek. 

“See you tonight.”

“Mmmm.” Garak mumbles sleepily.

——

05:24. Bashir groans and swats a rough, tickly pyjama sleeve away from his face. He wriggles out from under Garak’s limbs and snatches up his PADD, cursing himself for forgetting to set the alarm. He forgoes the shower and hurriedly pulls on clothes, stopping to give Garak a quick kiss on his temple as he heads for the door.

“You overslept by twenty-two minutes.” The Cardassian observes, not bothering to open his eyes.

“Twenty-four, actually.” Bashir corrects him. “See you tonight.”

——

04:37. Bashir feels on the nightstand for his PADD. Garak, missing the contact he’s been enjoying with Bashir’s back, makes a grab for him as he recedes. 

“Sorry love.” Bashir apologises as he gets out of bed.

Washed and dressed, he slips back under the duvet. Garak circles his arms round him, pulling him close and nuzzling his neck. 

“Ten minutes’ extra cuddle time.” Bashir whispers.

“How fortunate.” Garak mumbles into his shoulder.

Bashir listens to Garak’s slow, steady breathing as the thin reddish light of the Cardassian sunrise gradually fills the room.

“See you tonight.” Bashir prises the Cardassian off him, kisses the top of his head, and slips out.

——

03:19. Bashir wakes to chill hands gripping his shoulders, a thumb digging painfully into his left collarbone. Garak is shouting in Cardassian.

“No! Stop! It’s a trap! I was sent to kill you!”

He pushes Garak off his chest and shakes him awake.

“Hush love, it’s only a dream.”

“What?” Garak flails at the covers, disorientated.

“It’s ok. You’re here. With me.” Bashir places a reassuring hand on his chest.

“It was so real...” 

“I know, but it wasn’t real. It was a dream.” Bashir sighs and pushes himself up on the pillows into a half-sitting position. He pulls the Cardassian close to him. “It was only a dream.” He repeats.

Garak lays his head in Bashir’s lap and sobs. Bashir strokes his hair, murmuring soothingly until he falls asleep. At 04:54 he lifts the Cardassian gently onto the pillow, swipes the alarm off on his PADD, and heads for the bathroom.

Once ready to leave, he crouches by the bed and kisses Garak’s right brow ridge then just in front of his left ear.

“See you tonight.”

Garak doesn’t stir.

——

05:01. The alarm has been blaring for a full minute before Bashir untangles himself from Garak and slaps at the PADD. Garak sleeps right through it. He stumbles to the bathroom and examines the dark circles under his eyes as he shaves. He turns the shower temperature down, hoping cool water will enliven him. As he pulls his on trousers he blinks and slowly shakes his head, trying to clear the fog of sleep.

“Mmm, love you dear.” Garak mumbles sleepily as Bashir presses warm lips against his cool ones.

“I love you too. See you tonight.”

——

06:12. 

“Good morning my dear.”

Bashir opens his eyes to see a smiling Garak standing over him, holding a steaming mug of Tarkalean tea. He places it on the nightstand.

“Mmm, thanks.” Bashir sits up and drags a hand down his face, yawning. He reaches for the tea.

“Any plans for your day off?” Garak asks.

“A lie-in.” Bashir replies, sipping the hot liquid. “Care to join me?” He pats the empty space beside him on the mattress.

“With pleasure.” Garak lifts a corner of the duvet and slips under, pressing himself against Bashir’s side, eager for his warmth.

“Careful.” Bashir admonishes, setting the mug down before it can spill. He sighs contentedly and circles an arm round Garak’s shoulder.


End file.
